


Falling with Style

by vintagekiss



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Miles isn't impressed, Peter avoids his problems in favor of eating cheese from a can and stealing Miles' food, danny phantom reference that's likely been done before but idc, don't sue me didney, wherein i dont even try to explain how peter and gwen are here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-15 00:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17518694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagekiss/pseuds/vintagekiss
Summary: a series of drabbles where the stakes are low and peter b. parker may make a dad jokeCh. 1: In which Peter B. Parker quotes a Disney movie.Ch. 2: In which Miles apologizes and Peter B. Parker steals his empanada.Ch. 3: In which Miles asks Ghost-Spider the Important Question





	1. freestyle

Honestly, he doesn’t think too much about his swings. He just... freestyles it, you know? 

 

There's no use explaining it. He's got as much luck explaining to his Dad that his custom name tags around the city are his signature, his  _ mark.  _ Not "doodles" on "stickers". (“Dad, c'mon, that’s like saying those old songs you listen to all the time is noise.“ “Careful, son, that’s the King of Pop you’re talking about.”) 

 

It just feels  _ right _ to twist, turn, twirl in a thousand-foot-high dance in the air. Strike a pose with every dip and crest as he rides the wave of the swing. The sky itself a skate ramp that Miles rips through, aerials and airwalks at the takeoff-

 

Basically, Spider-Man is just cool like that. 

 

Miles Morales sums it up as such when his roommate, Ganke Lee, points out a particularly flashy swing and pose on yet another viral video that's got the whole school buzzing and Miles preening by the start of the week. 

 

Ganke accuses Miles of flexin’. 

 

Miles accuses Ganke of being a hater. 

 

Ganke isn’t any more impressed, but whatever. Ganke doesn’t get it, because Ganke’s a hater. 

 

(Straight up lie. Ganke is one of the few "normal-ish" folks, aside from May, that Miles can trust his identity to. Ganke's cool.)

 

So, when Peter B. Parker eloquently sums up the kid's swings as “kinda like falling. but, you know. with style”, Miles' thoughts, in order, are:

 

_ Did this dude quote a cartoon? _

 

And:

 

_ Oh. That's exactly what it is.  _

 

Peter called him sticks for arms and legs soon after, effectively ruining the moment and any chance of having a special thanks credit in Miles’ future award-winning biopic. Tentative title: _Falling with Style._ Because, swiped from a 20-year-old kid movie or no, the phrase is starting to grow on him and will be used to its fullest artistic potential.

 

Miles rushes home that night after his nightly Spider-Man rounds. Fingers trembling from fatigue; sparkling with inspiration.  _ Draw. _ Under the desk light that same evening, he sketches out the phrase. When he’s satisfied, he tests it out on a wall (dad-approved, privately owned). And when he’s finally satisfied with the way the ‘falling’ curves over the ‘style’ in bright neons and blues, he snaps a picture of it. A new wallpaper to hopefully impress Gwen with.

 

Peter catches a glimpse of the finished piece on Miles' phone after a quick glance the next day. He casually mutters something complimentary to uphold his Irrelevant Man-Ego. As if his heart isn't stirred, swelling at Miles' artistic adoption of Peter's messy (awkwardly paternal) attempt to acknowledge the boy's blossoming development into his own unique Spider-Man.

 

And Miles meets this casualness with an equally smug toss of his shoulders to protect his Too Cool for School Teen-Ego. As if being praised by the guy he looks up to isn't the highlight of his entire week.

 

“Best work yet.”

 

“Pretty cool, ain't it?”

 

Falling with style. It really does have a nice ring to it.

 

“Yeah,” Ganke eventually agrees at length when Miles catches him after class the next day. Ganke tests out the phrase. “Kinda corny, kinda cool... Fits you.”

 

Miles rolls his eyes. Whatever, hater.


	2. spray cheese, burgers, and empanadas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miles and Peter have a small fight. Miles feels bad about it the next day.

 

_“Hey, hey, it’s Spider-Man!”_

 

_“I love you, Spider-Man!”_

 

_“Lift up your mask!”_

 

_“Woah, hey--that’s a no-no, my man. You know how it is. But, uh, selfie?”_

 

  

The video ends, loops back to the beginning. Peter pauses it, and the city below overtakes the brief moment of silence passing between the two Spider-Men on the roof.

 

Until: “Wow,” Miles frowns down at himself on the small phone screen.

 

“Yeah. Wow,” Peter echoes blandly, holding the phone between them.

 

“I mean, gotta give credit,” Miles shrugs. “The background music is pretty tight, right?”

 

The ‘right’ reaches a higher octave than the words before it, inviting Peter to agree. Peter doesn’t budge.

  

“You know, it was Ganke’s idea. He thought it’d be cool since, you know, everyone’s been talking about Spider-Man lately. So, why not record me in action? This video’s got, like, a million views already.”

 

“ _Teenagers_ ,” is all Peter mutters.

 

“So, uh, how’d you find this?”

 

Peter looks offended. “Gimme a break. It’s all over social media.”

 

Miles looks skeptical. “Your dimension has Twitter _._ ”

 

“Please, a little credit to your spider-coach.” Peter flashes his scratched up web shooters towards Miles. “I’m _Spider-Man._ I know my way around _webs_ , Miles _.”_

 

Miles groans and recoils like he’s taken a punch to the chest, face scrunching in a painful hiss over Peter’s chortle, and then slides his wireless headphones from around his neck to his ears. The left speaker is pulled back and released, snapping over his ear with an audible _POP_.

 

“Ow! _Dude_?”

 

“I’m not finished scolding you.” _Tap, tap._ Peter’s finger on the screen. “Pay attention. _Headphones_ , Miles. You’re _wearing_ _headphones_ , Miles. _In the middle of a fight_ , Miles. You’re getting cocky. You’re distracted, you’re showing off just because you know the camera’s on you.”

 

”Seriously? This bother you that much? Listening to music keeps me relaxed. Everyone loves it. Chill.”

 

“No, nope, not gonna _chill_. I’m the total opposite of _chill_ about this.”

 

“Jeez. Don’t have a heart attack. I know how fragile you old dudes are.”

 

Peter’s jaw clenches, the click of his teeth loud enough for Miles to shrink to—almost. Instead, he squares his shoulders, sits up a little straighter on the ledge, and tries to frown in that Peter-y way, where the brows completely shadow the eyes.

 

He’s not nearly as successful in the execution. Like his first web-sling: Clumsy and amateurish.

 

“This isn’t a game, Miles.”

 

“I know it, Peter.”

 

Neither yield, the quiet only broken by the city hundreds of feet below them, until Peter retreats first, sighing defeatedly through his broken nose.

 

Miles’ lips lift in a crooked smile devoid of triumph.

 

Who _is_ this guy, and where’s the real Peter B. Parker? The dad-joking, cartoon-quoting, chill Peter B. Parker whose best advice, three months ago, was baby powder in the suit.

 

At first, he was thrilled to see the guy crash down through the colorful, bubbly portal, glitch-free and relatively okay. Weirder things have happened in his few months solo as Spider-Man. This surprise being a... welcome weird.

 

At least he thought. Now…

 

Peter said it himself: Own your differences. Be unique. And now, suddenly, the dude is asking him to dial it back.

 

“Just, hear me out, kid. Limit distractions. Just…” _Take this seriously. Be careful. Don’t get hurt._

 

“Cool. Heard. Thanks.”

 

Peter’s giving a Look that really reminds Miles of his dad. It’s the last straw. Someone else worrying sick over him? Pass. He’s already got an overly concerned _actual_ dad who innocently believes his son is studying for tomorrow’s physics exam right about now. He’s guilty enough about that.

 

“Later.”

 

Miles masks up and skips off the building before Peter can say anything else.

 

Miles feels bad the next day. I-gotta-do-something-about-this-now-or-it’ll-eat-me-alive kinda bad.

 

Miles throws his hoodie on, grabs his sketchbook, slides a snack into his backpack, and makes up a story about meeting Ganke at the park to his parents. It’s Spring, the snow’s cleared, and they believe it. He hates lying to them, but he’s gotta find Peter to ease this gnawing guilt in his gut.

 

He finds the older man easily enough, at the regular burger joint, and slips into the seat across from Peter with a small “sorry” that he _hopes_ communicates his sincerity. Peter accepts it casually enough through mouthfuls of meat and a little head toss, and they're okay again, until Miles playfully suggests Peter order a side salad while eyeing the mountain of fries at the table’s center.

 

“Easy now,” Peter says, as if watching a guy swallow down half a burger, whole, is easy to sit through. Peter pointedly ignores the distraught ‘dude’ that comes from the kid across the table. “I’m a slob, Miles, not a monster.”

 

“Tell that to the burger you just devoured.”

 

Miles rummages through his bag, only a Spider-Man-Teen with a Spider-Man-Teen income, aka, zero dollars to splurge on eating out. Bringing your own food to a restaurant is tacky, yeah, but Miles and Peter know the guy in charge. He’s cool, it’s cool, and Miles unwraps the empanada he’d shoved into his bag before stepping out.

 

“Woah.” Peter oozes suggestively, pointing at the unwrapped doughy-looking-deliciousness that materialized from Miles’ bag, “Who is _she?”_

 

Miles, mid-bite, looks at his hand. “My… empanada?”

 

Peter holds out his hand. Miles shrinks back, grimacing.

 

“Gimme.”

 

“No. Finish your fries—“ The web shot from Peter’s wrist is too quick to dodge, too quick for any diners to witness. “Yo, Peter _—_!”

 

“Wow, yep. Fan of this. Where’s this from?”

 

“My mom. You’re welcome. Dude, gross!” Miles protests when the snatched pastry is shoved back towards him. “Keep it.”

 

“Cool. Invite me over some time.”

 

“And explain why a grown man is eating cheese from a can? I’m good.”

 

“That’s not a diss on spray cheese, is it? Fun fact: that stuff is easy to eat while swinging. All you need is one hand. Snack on the go. I have a can on me right now in fact.”

 

“Eat a vegetable, Peter.”

 

“No hard feelings about yesterday, by the way. Teenage rebellion. I get it. I know that’s really why you’re here, and not just to, you know, go on an unwarranted attack against my impeccable food preferences.”

 

He’s wrong. The apology isn’t the _only_ reason Miles chased Peter down to this diner. Miles had been thinking about Peter a lot lately, between the punching bad guys and swinging through Brooklyn… Wondering why exactly Peter’s still here, when he’s got an entire universe, his universe, out there and needing him. MJ is out there and needs him, right? But the last time _that_ was brought up Peter made some half-baked explanation meant to evade a clearly unwelcome conversation.

 

The burger joint excuse can only stretch so far before it becomes ridiculous even for Peter’s standards.

 

“What’s up?”

 

Miles jolts a little from his thoughts. Peter seems to sense something troubling the kid, Mr. Noir was right: Miles just really ain’t that good at closing off his feelings.

 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

 

“You sure? Looks like you got something to say.”

 

“Nah.”

 

He’ll bring it up. Next time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Miles asks Ghost-Spider the Important Question.

Ghost-Spider. Gwen’s name in her dimension. And, naturally, just like everything else about Gwen Stacy, it _radiates_ Awesome.

 

“Yo.” Miles turns to her with wide eyes. “ _Please_ tell me you've said ‘I’m goin’ ghost!’ _at least_ once.”

 

“Uh?”

 

There’s a brief silence as Gwen thoughtfully chews her gum over alter-dimension homework that Ganke isn’t here to ooze over, frantically pick apart, and overall cramp Miles’ style with through his fanboying.

 

Miles _doesn’t_ fanboy, nope.

 

He’s _definitely_ not grinning like the dorkiest of dorks right now. Nope.

 

“No, dude.” Gwen’s chewing gum pops between her teeth. “Why.”

 

Well. There goes that.

 

“Nevermind.”

 

"What?" Gwen looks up, eyes scrutinizing the other Spider's back. “What'd I miss?” 

 

“Nothin’,” is the bitter reply, headphones sliding over Miles' ears. “Just _comedy_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a lot of Favorite Things in spider-verse but my most favorite is when Peter B. Parker does that spider-crouch and Miles Morales' does a tiny spider-crouch as they argue at the collider


End file.
